


Staples or stitches

by Patatarte



Series: The Cow Crew [5]
Category: cowchop, fakechop - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 07:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patatarte/pseuds/Patatarte
Summary: James is badly injured and the others have to find a solution to help him.





	Staples or stitches

It wasn’t their first big fight, hell, it wasn’t even the most dangerous either ! But their opponents were ferocious and the small CowCrew was tired as fuck. Too much activities nights and days, trying to make a name of themselves while having to pay the bills.

No, they weren’t in shape that day and Aron needed protection, preventing Aleks to go wild while James was fighting like a tired tiger, all big moves, powerful but a bit too slow so utterly ineffective in the end.

They were just trying to stand their ground, they weren’t wining by any means.

But a part of them still wanted to try, perhaps it was stupidity due to their young age, inexperience, lack of logic due to a lack of sleep, but they still tried.

And they weren’t wrong, they succeded somehow, thanks to the accuracy of their shot. They got their hands on money, but at what price ?

Aron held the bag like it was his life, frantically looking around while Aleks finished to clear the way. They didn’t have a lot of amunition left, but it seemed enough.

Aleks and Aron backtracked to James who was breathing heavily, hands on his knees, sweating profusely.

“We are so dumb !” he said, tired but smiling a bit.

They all smiled, relieved.

Until a gunshot startled them.

Aleks was quick, his gun still in hands, he didn’t think and emptied his charger right where the shot came from. His mind was a bit blurry but he was sure he heard James screams. His finger kept pushing the trigger even when the weapon was empty.

He was shaking, hoping that fucker was truly the last.

“Fuck” it was just a word, meaningless.

Aron dropped the bag and checked on James who was breathing heavily, grunting and holding his belly.

Droplets of blood were on the floor, and their tiredness felt far away.

Aleks crouched next to James and hurried Aron to run to Joe, trying to get the car closer while he tried to be a support for his injured friend.

“James, you okay ?” he sounded too serious, they never were that serious.

His friend shaked his head, looking at the floor, jaws tight, one hand found Aleks’ arm and grabbed it so firmly Aleks was sure he’ll have a bruise.

Now, James is truly a loud person, even more on missions, stealth isn’t is forte at all, and every slight injury makes him yell. Hell, even a paper cut can get your ears to bleed ! Even not hitting him that bad can make him yell.

But right now, he’s silent, breathing heavily and trying to stay calm by crushing his friend’s arm.

This is bad, really bad.

“It’ll be okay, Joe will be here in a minute, the hospital isn’t far and…”

“No !” James regretted his quick move at the evocation of the hospital, he crumbled a bit more on the ground. “No hospital” he was talking through gritted teeth.

“Why ?!” somewhere in his mind, Aleks knew why, but he could not let his friend suffer that way.

“We killed people.”

Aleks tried to calm himself, patting his friend’s shirt, trying to lift it a bit to see the damage. James slapped his hand away, starting to cry.

“I’m okay.” Lies.

“Guys !”

Aron came back with Joe. They runned to James and the short driver helped him to stand, holding him while trying not to hurt him more.

“We have to go, now !” Police will show up any time soon, gun shots usualy had that effect.

James was still holding Aleks’ arm, but the Russian had to make him let go for an instant. He took off his gray shirt and threw it on the ground, cleaning the blood as fast as possible while Aron took the bag of money.

They were fast, tiredness long gone, replaced by fear and stress.

James grunted in the car, rolling his head around, kicking weakly. Joe took the wheel as usual and Aron sat next to him. Aleks went back to having his arm violated by James’ hold.

“Hospital, right ?” Joe asked, his hands trembling on the steering wheel.

“No, we’re going home.” Aleks was firm, he needed to be the cold head.

“But..!” Joe wanted to argue, his friend was in a bad shape, it was foolish !

“No ! We can’t go to the hospital, it’ll send us all to jail. James wants to go home.”

It sounded more serious than just going into that stupid house, it sounded way more ominous and sad. It was weird, being that serious.

Nobody talked after that, except for Aleks who tried to comfort James, but perhaps it was more for his own sake than James’ at the moment. Tears were falling down the injured man’s eyes, he was in too much pain to care.

“We’re going home, hold on, James, okay ?”

Things started to blurr for James, but they made it eventualy. It was the middle of the night and they tried their best not to make too much noise, they carried James on the couch and things got messy.

Aleks tried to call Brett for help, but the man was probably asleep at the other end of the fucking map, they were on their own. James was starting to lament, insulting them without any mercy now, his rage fueled by fear as a normal human being should feel in these circumstances.

Joe took the first aid kit, Aron took some tools (like, stappler ? Really ? Ductape, you can need that) and Aleks emptied the pharmacy and took all the towels (two, pathetic) and paper towels.

They lifted James shirt and the texture and noise almost made them faint. His black shirt was soaked in blood, sticky, with that powerful smell. It looked bad.

“We need to clean the wound first.” Joe said, and he was like the only one that started doing it while the two others stared at the wound.

“Stop staring.” James said, in a small voice, trying not to move too much.

So Aron and Aleks agreed. Before starting the computer, Aleks took a bunch of pills and a glass of water, giving it to James, to ease the pain at least. Once done, they looked up how to deal with that nasty injury. Silence was taking place, interupted by the painful moans of James trying not to lose it, waiting for the drug to set in.

“I…I need something to cut.” Joe was unsure, but he needed to get the bullet out that was the only thing he knew.

James closed his eyes, he did not try to pray to anything, but having Aleks, Joe and Aron cuting him up wasn’t a good idea, never ever.

“We have nothing here !” Aron threw his phone, thinking of where the fuck they could find that.

“My karambit.” Aleks took it out of his pocket and gave it to Joe.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Aleksandr ?” James voice was low but he couldn’t believe that out of all the fucking thing right now.

“Wait, we need alcohol on it first” added Aron, runing in the kitchen to get it.

“I’m going to die.”

“You’ll be alright, James.” Aleks tried, his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I fucking doubt it. Fuck” he cried fully, unable to control it.

It was truly painful to watch, James was the strong one, he barely showed any weakness, but now…Now it was scary and painful.

“I..I think we have to hold him.” Joe continued.

Aron gave the alcohol and grabbed James’ legs, not that he would be really strong but he’ll do his best anyways. Aleks took James’ hands in one of his, the other arm around his shoulders as a support, eyes in eyes. James was shaking his head, not wanting to do that, the pain was still there, he could even feel the blood fall from him. It was a good news, in a sense, but still.

“It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.” was all Aleks said, his eyes leaving James’ for one second just to see the knife near the wound. “It’ll be okay”

Then James screamed. He screamed really loud, trying to get his head into a pillow. His face was red and tears were now like a waterfall. Joe tried his best to be quick, Aron was fighting to not get knocked out by James’ feet. Aleks continued to reassure him, his voice drowned in the muffled screams.

“I’m gonna kill you all !”

They knew it was empty threats, he was in pain after all.

“I’m gonna haunt your ass, I’m going to fucking kill you !”

He kept screaming, they kept holding him for what seemed hours. Until it went silent, until James fainted. Joe got the bullet, and it seemed not that bad, it could have been worse. James was pale, the loss of blood wasn’t a good thing and they needed to find a solution.

Luckily, Brett called back right before Aron wanted to use the stapler.

_

A good amount of time passed, the couch was disgusting as well as the floor. Joe was sleeping on a chair, dried blood on his hands. Aron was rolled in a blanket on the kitchen floor. Aleks was against the couch, fighting to not sleep as he observed that guy Brett called for them to take care of James.

“He should be okay, it wasn’t deep. You did the most important part. Now time will tell. I’ll give you some pills if it looks bad, I wrote things down, call me if you need anything.”

Aleks agreed, gave half of the money they got on that fucking night to the guy. Brett saved James, he truly hoped that it was true.

The man left, and Aleks wandered in the house.

He felt like time had stopped, the air smelled like an hospital and a butcher place as well. It was disgusting.

A little wind made him shivers and he realized that he had no shirt since that night as well. He grabbed a vest, not caring if it was his, and walked into the living room.

His karambit had James’ blood on it, and he couldn’t take it off the floor because of that. He couldn’t even stop starring at the bloody floor.

James almost died.

When James opened his eyes, two days later, he looked livid, tired, awful. But he was alive. Joe was outside, with Ein, sleeping on the grass. Aron was upstairs, watching god knows what, and Aleks was in the bathroom.

When he went out, he heard a faint “Hey, asshole” and never felt happier in a long, long time.

Of course his hapiness was short lived because they had to help him to go to the bathroom for a good week, and he will not forget that.


End file.
